I'm doing this on my phone on 1% battery so I'm going to have to be really really quick- but this is a bonus chapter I wasn't planning to upload just yet, just because I'm honestly a bit blown away by the response to the last chapter. Thank you SO so much if you took the time to review, it honestly means the world. You guys have done wonders for my writing confidence over the last few months.
I hate that I have to say this but just to be clear- Lollie is born in February 2014 as you've probably worked out from previous chapters (actually 18 February- yes I had picked the date before the EO reunion date was announced how crazy is that??) I am in no way shape or form making comments on Mariska's body here, it's fanfiction, Lollie is born two weeks later.
Last time I posted a chapter from Olivia'spregnancyI had a request to make it into a separate story- Iwill be including flashbacks to her pregnancy throughout this story, but I'm open to posting some of the outtake scenes that won't make the cut for this storyseparately if that'ssomething people would want to read!
Thank you for all your support on this story so far, it's so so appreciated!
-IseultLaBelle x
Chapter 14
Monday, February 3rd, 2014
"It's not too late to back out, you know."
They're sat across from one another in one of the SVU's unmarked vehicles reserved for precisely this purpose; him in the drivers' seat, apprehensive, struggling to maintain control of his fiercely overprotective streak, her in the passenger seat with a look of absolute, uncompromising determination in her eyes as she stares straight ahead, full-on cop-mode, almost as though she's trying to convince herself that she's up to this just as much as she is him.
"It istoo late, Elliot," Olivia insists- and she definitely can't look at him, Elliot realises with a sinking feeling in his heart.
That much is painfully clear from the way she maintains her stare out of the windscreen a few moments more until she apparently can't maintain her in-control, unshakable, completely and utterly, unquestionably fine demeanour any longer, suddenly resorts to fidgeting with her hands, wrapping around themselves, thoroughly fixated on her fingernails; anything, apparently, but meeting his eyes and confirming his suspicions that she's far from alright- just fighting with all her might to convince him otherwise.
"Elliot's right, Liv," Nick Amaro offers in support from the backseat. Slowly, cautiously, he leans forward, places a protective hand on her shoulder, leaning around the passenger seat. "It's nottoo late. If you don't feel up to this…"
"I do feel up to this," Olivia protests, irate. "I keep telling you- I've had this conversation with Cragen and IAB so many times since the trial I'm getting sick of it…"
"I know," Nick agrees quickly. "I know. But if you were to change your mind, it's not too late, Liv. Alright? It really isn't. We can turn around right now, we can go back, if you want. Everyone will understand. Undercover's a lot to take on at the best of times, but after everything you've been through in the last…"
"I'm fine," she snaps, though she wraps her arms around herself protectively now, fidgets furiously, stops herself, tugs at her shirt- and she's self-conscious, Elliot realises, too late.
She's self-conscious- self-conscious of her post-Lewis weight gain that he stupidly drew attention to even after Kathy told him to leave it alone, that it wouldn't end well; her post-Lewis weight gain that he was so completely convinced was down to early-second trimester pregnancy until she shut that right down with details of her and Cassidy's sex life or lack thereof that he really did not need to conjure up a mental image of at Christmas.
Now, he's put it down to stress.
Not that it matters.
What matters is that she's clearly self-conscious.
She's struggling in her own skin- anyone can see that- struggling to reclaim her body as her own in the aftermath of those four days in Lewis's clutches, to come to terms with the scars he knows she's been left with- both the ones he's seen himself and those he's almost certain must be there, after reading through Lewis's MO as thoroughly as he did when she was missing, after the hell she was put through at the trial, the details that Barba couldn't manage to keep out of court if they were going to have the slightest chance of convicting the son-of-a-bitch.
She's self-conscious, clearly struggling with the changes to her body both inflicted upon her by Lewis and otherwise to a far greater extent than she would have ever been willing to admit had it not been for his stupid, ill-thought-out commenting on her weight; should have known better, Elliot curses himself, should have trusted his wife's judgement as a fellow woman over his own arrogant belief that their closeness as partners allowed him to draw attention to aspects of her he's known damned well for years were off-limits with any other woman.
She's self-conscious and her confidence is evidently at absolute rock bottom, however much she tries to deny it.
She's vulnerable, still struggling to get over the most horrendous assault, and Elliot would love nothing more than to believe her when she insists that Lewis never raped her, but her toxicology report from the hospital suggests her memory of those four days is most likely far from complete, if nothing else.
She's self-conscious and her confidence is gone and she's the most vulnerable he's ever known her, and she's trapped in a relationship he's not entirely convinced is the healthiest place for her to be just now and she's still struggling to come to terms with what happened to her nine months ago, let alone the events of the trial that's only just concluded.
And on top of all that, they're about to drop her outside a women's refuge to pose as a crisis support worker in a community they know is being targeted by a serial rapist.
A community whose culture is alien to her, despite the hours of Russian classes she apparently put in during the two years he was gone.
A community in which she'll know no one, in which she'll consequentially be even more vulnerable than she is now without him there to keep an eye on her as thoroughly as he can at the precinct.
A community in which her stress levels will be heightened even further, in which there's every chance the scumbag who's been assaulting women there could lay his hands on her, too, and Elliot doesn't just worry that she might not be able to cope with that so soon after Lewis- he knowsshe can't.
She might have managed to fool the department shrink who signed her off for this undercover job, but she can't fool him.
He's going out of mind with worry already, and she hasn't even stepped out the goddamned car yet.
"I wish everyone would just stop asking me if I'm alright when I've said over and over that I'm fine," Olivia continues in frustration, though Elliot knows her well enough to pick up on the slight wobble to her voice, and it's horribly clear from the look Nick shoots him from the back seat that he can see it, too- how on-edge she is, how frighteningly close to breaking point. "I've got this. It's the tamest undercover job ever, a rookie straight out the academy could do it. I'll be fine. Unless you think I can't handle it…"
"No one's saying that, Liv," Elliot tries to soothe her gently. "We all know how capable you are. We just… we just want you to know that you can change your mind, that's all. You're the strongest person I know…"
"Don't patronise me." She bats his compliment away, recoils into herself, somehow, almost as though the real problem, buried deep beneath her deflection, is that she simply doesn't believe he's telling her the truth.
"You are," Elliot tells her simply. "But things get a little much for all of us, sometimes. I just want you to know that there's no shame in changing your mind, okay? That's what Cragen said, he can make excuses to IAB, say someone saw you at the trial and your cover's about to be blown. You change your mind, all you have to do is call me, text me the code word we agreed, whatever. And I'll come and get you straight away. You want to run through your detail again…"
"I'm fine, El. I've got this." She humours him all the same. "Anna Kuznetsova, Anya, born April 16th1967 in Moscow. Been in the states since 2011, before this I worked at a refuge in Boston. Relocated to Brighton Beach last month, right before this place offered me the job. Sister Yekaterina's my contact on the inside, you're in my phone as Ivan- you're my cousin, came to New York from Moscow five years ago. I'm going in, getting to know the men in the Russian community around St Ksenia's to determine if it's one of their own that's doing this, seeing if I can't get the women in the refuge to trust another immigrant over a cop and confide in me who the hell's targeting abused women and sex trafficking victims. Straight back out again. You satisfied?"
"I think you've got it covered, Liv," Nick steps in, before Elliot can protest that he's never going to be satisfied sending her undercover alone, and certainly not like this. "Alright. You ready to do this?"
She nods, lifts her purse from the foot well, clutches it in front of her abdomen defensively. "I'll check in later, alright?"
"You do that," Elliot agrees. "Be safe. Alright? If you need anything…"
"I know how to get in touch with you," Olivia finishes for him. "I'll be fine. Will you…" she trails off for a moment, leans forward in the passenger seat, lifts her hair, fumbles. "Take care of this for me?"
She holds her palm out to him across to the drivers' seat, her trademark necklace laid out across it, and she looks… lost, somehow, with just the Russian crucifix the department provided for this undercover job around her neck.
"Alright," Elliot agrees, clasping it tightly in his own hand. "See you on the other side."
The two men watch together as she eases herself out of the car far more gingerly than she should be needing to, strides across the street, disappears into the women's refuge attached to St Ksenia's Russian Orthodox Church and then she's gone, not Olivia anymore, vanished into Anya Kuznetsova's world where they can't protect her any longer.
"She's not really alright, is she?" Nick sighs, once the refuge door is firmly closed behind her.
Elliot shudders.
"No," he admits at last. "No, she isn't. I get it," he confesses. "I get why Cragen's done it. She barely made it through Lewis's trial as it was, there's no way she would have coped with being the centre of a media storm. But I don't like this."
"This is…" Nick trails off, visibly unsure of whether or not whatever he plans to say next is a good idea or a truly terrible one. "This is going to sound so strange…"
Elliot stops in his tracks. "No, go on?"
"The way she just got out the car…"
"Yeah?"
'Reminds me…" Nick shuffles awkwardly in the back seat. "Reminds me of Maria, towards the end of her pregnancies. If I didn't know better…"
He freezes. "You asked her about it?"
"If she might be pregnant?"
"Yeah."
Nick sighs again. "I may have brought it up right before the trial," he admits awkwardly. "Delicately, mind. Let's just say it didn't go too well."
"Oh god," Elliot groans. "She probably thinks we compared notes…"
"You've wondered too?"
"I was pretty certain," Elliot confesses. "At Christmas, when she made it clear she was going through with this. I handled it really badly, admittedly, I think she thought I was commenting on her…"
"Sounds like you had the exactly same conversation with her I did," Nick agrees. "I mean, I don't know. I thought she must be, I mean, she looks…"
"I know. But she's adamant she's not let Cassidy touch her since Lewis- she tell you that?"
"Uh huh. I mean, I don't get why she ever let him touch her in the first place…"
"Right? No, I agree. If I didn't know better, I'd say she looked four months gone, at least," Elliot sighs. "Maybe five. And she knows. She clearly knows. I thought she was going to slap me in the face, when I asked her if she'd thought of taking a test just to be on the safe…"
"Yeah, we definitely had the same conversation with her. Fuck, she must have thought you'd put me up to it," Nick realises. "Or conspired together, or something. That would explain why she went off on the defensive and made it all about me daring to comment on her body before I'd so much as…"
"No, it would. I'm starting to wonder if she's got some kind of internal damage they never picked up on at the hospital after… you know." Elliot tries out his theory cautiously, watching Nick's face for a reaction. "She looks like she's in pain, half the time- discomfort, at the very least. It would explain that, it could even explain the physical changes, couldn't it? I don't know… I'm no doctor. Although if I'm right, how she's been walking around with internal damage for nine months is anyone's guess…"
"Because she's Liv," says Nick simply. "If anyone could do it, it's Liv."
"True."
"She had a medical, right?" Nick questions suddenly. "Before she was cleared for this, she must have had a medical…"
"Yeah, she did. I don't think it was all that thorough, though," Elliot admits, defeated. "Cragen was determined to get her approved for this…"
"Understandably so," Nick agrees. "So you think they rushed the medical through…"
"They had to have rushed it. Turned a blind eye, at the very least. I mean, you've seen her. Even if we ignore the mental side of it all, she's not right. She's struggling," Elliot worries. "She's struggling, and it's not just with processing it all, either. And I don't know what to do about it. I can't force her to go get herself checked out properly, but the longer she struggles on like this…"
"The harder she's going to fall in the end," Nick finishes for him. "I know. We sticking around?"
Elliot shrugs. "Cragen kind of implied he'd turn a blind eye. I don't know… I say we stick around the first hour or so? Just in case?"
"I'm not going to complain."
He nods in approval. "I've told Kathy I might not be home tonight," he admits- almost guilty, can't quite explain why.
"You're going to sleep out here?"
"Nah, parked outside the apartment she's in. She'll be home by then, she's working the day shift today." Elliot shrugs. "You know. Just in case. Brighton Beach isn't quite as bad to run over to from Queens if she changes her mind, but it's still not exactly a short trip."
"She won't change her mind, though."
"No, I know," Elliot agrees. "I know. But just in case."
He's never been one for jewellery.
He's never worn jewellery before in his life with the exception of his wedding ring; chains have never appealed to him.
But alone in the locker room, after he and Nick have given up their watch outside the St Ksenia's Women's Refuge and returned to the precinct, Elliot finds himself fastening her fearlessness pendant around his neck.
She asked him to take care of it, after all.
The metal feels cool against his chest.